Stories by Bill Weasley
by tconlin
Summary: A slightly chronological and ever expanding set of slightly fictional stories relating to the life and times of Bill Weasley. Canon.


For Rachel.

My first memories up growing up at the burrow are filled with the light and love of a happy childhood. I always go back to the moment of walking down our winding stairs and being greeted by the smell of my Mum's stews. Looking out our window to the Devon countryside, I would see her waving her wand as the cream sauce filled the copper pan. We didn't have much at that time, so she did the best with what she had, nothing a little engorgement charm can't fix. Dad was working at the ministry of course, in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. He enjoyed his work but most of all he loved coming home to his boys, I could see it everyday on his face. It was just myself and Charlie at first, and after a long day of homeschool we always loved hearing his car come in from the distance. His old lug of a car would come puttering in, eventually touching (or rather hitting) the ground, and we would run up to hug him. My Mum would come in behind us and we would all go have a hearty dinner together.

At the age of three I came down with a stammer. It was not something I understood at the time, it is only in reflection that I can articulate the experience. My Mum says that I only started stammering after choosing not to speak with her for months. This is something of course I have no recollection of. My Mum struggled for years with this, she took the job as mother very seriously and was always worrying about her boys. She was a very talented witch in her day as well. Dad always made a point to tell us boys about what our Mum did before she started taking care of us. She was a much better student than Dad at Hogwarts when they were both there. They were both Gryffindors, and began dating third year. We later found out she brewed a love potion when she was young, but there are no signs it was used on Dad. Except if you count that her nickname is "Mollywobbles." Trust me, only Dad calls her that. She was born a Prewett and both of her brothers are members of the original Order of the Phoenix. But when Charlie and I came around she was focused on being a mother, a good one. She poured all the hardships of her own childhood into her care and worry for us. With Dad doing what he loved, not what made the most money, my Mum didn't have the resources to get the ingredients for a potion to heal my stammer. Instead she would sing me songs to put me to rest, protect me from bullies, give me attention, and tell me everything would be ok. Around the age of eleven however, right before my first year at Hogwarts, she revealed to me that she had been having my father pick up ingredients for the potion for years as money became available. And soon after she finished the potion that would heal my Stammer for good. She had to spend a few days perfecting it, and was clearly very careful with timing and every ingredient, but after drinking the potion I was healed. I never stammered again, and from that point on, beyond being a great Mum, I never doubted her talents as a witch. I never forgot what it felt like having a stammer, and it looking back it certainly had a great impact in my choice of interests, namely style, dragons, and problem solving. I could excel in all these areas without speaking. It still seems to be when I am at my most comfortable.

When I was six my brother Percy was born, and as he grew Charlie and I had a ball teasing him. He still gets on about how we nagged him but I don't think he will ever understand how fun and cute he was a youngster. Always deep in his own imaginary worlds, Charlie and I would laugh hysterically at him through the window as he would gather sticks from the woods and create his own wizard armies in the backyard. All the while yelling incoherent incantations as he walked back and forth. Looking at the ground and fidgeting his thumbs as if he was some all-seeing baby. After Percy came the twins, Fred and George. They were a rambunctious pair of brothers, which I always enjoyed. They really elevated our quidditch games in the backyard, and unlike Percy they were willing subjects to the games that I would organize. Next came Ron, and at this point I was older and almost on my way to Hogwarts as a first year. So unfortunately I never got to be close with Ron like my other brothers. I hope that I set a good example for him. I know that my younger brothers did step up, although Percy was a bit of loner, he was always there for Ron. Even Fred and George who would always be up to their own mischief that they cooked up together, protected Ron when he was at Hogwarts. Last but not least was Ginny. Of course a break was all the boys, my Mum was so glad to have a girl around. Ginny brought sensibility to the house, and always had the most careful eye, observant to all that was good as well as bad.

It was always happy times inside that house. Of course, outside the house we started to hear rumblings about trouble. Living in the countryside it was always Dad bringing home the news, and around when I was 8, Dad started staying later at work and coming home more agitated. Mum thought we were too young to be told the truth but my brothers and I heard enough we knew that there was a war afoot.

We always knew my Mum and her brothers were well versed in the dark arts. As Voldemort rose to power a few years before my first year at Hogwarts, we got to see first hand. Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon started coming by the burrow a lot more often around this time. Mum and Dad would be out late on certain days around this time, which they normally never did. I pestered them until they told me what was going on. I was ten after all and deserved to know. Voldemort was going on strong around these times. And the Order of the Phoenix needed as much help as they could get. Fabian and Gideon, who were always members of the Order, got Mum and Dad to help them out in their attempts to control Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I remember sitting in my bed staring at the door. With Charlie laying in the small twin bed next to me, I would console him, telling him that everything would be ok, but I was too young to be any kinds of truly reassuring I am sure. Looking at that door, I imagined a death eater walking through it, or even crawling up the side of the house. My imagination was vivid even at the age of 10. It was a year later, right before my first year at Hogwarts. When Mum and Dad shared the good news that Voldemort had gone back into hiding. I had of course known for days. My curiousity had gotten the best of me and would read the Daily Prophet even though I could barely understand anything besides the quidditch sections. I was not only able to learn that Voldemort and his supporters had retreated but also that Mum and Dad were doing respected. They would never talk about it, but they were featured in the Prophet one day as mentioned members of the Order that were helping the fight. It was also around this time that percy adopted a strange pet rat. He called him Scabbers. It was strange because I had never seen a rat in our neighborhood before, but nevertheless, he did seem to like percy. We did not have the money for proper pets so Scabbers would become an official family pet. Years later we would learn that Scabbers was actually Peter Pettigrew in hiding. One of Voldemort's most ardent supporters, Pettigrew wanted to hide Voldemort's wand in order to protect it from the Ministry, and of course he was successful. Evil wizards are always have a special talent for deception it seems. We should have suspected something as Scabbers lived for far longer than any rat I had ever known, confounding all in his path.

Finally, in 1982, I started my first year at Hogwarts. I was immediately sorted in Gryffindor. The sorting hat didn't think too hard on me, which I liked. Walking through the fat lady and into the Gryffindor common room for the first time, I finally felt like I had found a home outside of the Burrow. I quickly made friends and all nerves quickly dissipated. I enjoyed school at this time, and was able to get good grades without trying all that hard. It was first year after all, and even though I wasn't allowed I had been practicing basic spells with my brothers for years. At this time, I still believed I was going to be a professional quidditch player, how naive I was. Yet I pursued that dream fervently. It taught me a lot about how to pursue a passion. I was certainly never the best player, but certainly not the worst. I excelled at keeper early on, before hogwarts, but of course I wanted to be a seeker, choosing to compete with the best players at the school. I did not win this competition and had to settle for chaser. Nevertheless I enjoyed the role and embraced it. I never gave up on the seeker position. I spent many hours, alone, practicing catching the golden snitch. I would get it sometimes, but the only time the coach gave me a shot in a real game I would flounder. I don't know if it was nerves, but I could never find my comfort zone in quidditch. Maybe I was thinking too much. I will never forget when a friend on the team told me that it "looked like I was going in slow motion out there" after what I had thought was a great play. Forgetting that this guy was a arsehole, maybe I was oblivious to the fact that my talents were not suited to this sport. In order to excel at something I loved, I would have to listen to where my talents lay rather than follow my pride and ego. Regardless, I kept going with quidditch for most of my years at Hogwarts. The sport continued to be where I thought I could get a sense of community at the school, but this was misguided. It's what I thought I wanted to be, what the wizarding world told me a respected young man was, a quidditch seeker, but in reality that was not me, it was not authentic. It took me awhile to learn that. I regret abandoning this earlier, I could have gone back to the authentic community I belonged to but didn't think I did, the nerds.

In between first and second year, my Dad got a new job. I remember my Dad sitting me down, and asking my opinion on the decision. He asked me if I would like to take nicer trips, and being a teenager I quickly said "sure." I realize my Dad was searching for reason, but it seems like he felt like he had responsibilities that were really not there. He provided a great home for his family even if he didn't think so, and all of us kids never went hungry or really struggled, we just never had money for the fancy stuff, and that was ok. Of course, as a kid I might have been guilty of making my Dad think they really were important by asking for nice things. But no matter, my Dad had decided to take on a new, bigger position in the ministry. He moved out of the misuse of muggle artefacts office and was promoted to the head of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. This new to my Dad. Looking back, it seems that he took the job for what he believed his idea of ambition to be at that time. I remember him coming home and often complaining of his coworkers, something he never used to do at his old job. Of course, like Dad said, we did get better things. All of a sudden we had nice stuff. We moved out of the burrow and down into the township of Devonshire. I missed the Burrow and was not afraid to tell my parents this. The Burrow was where all of our memories were and although it was a bit tight with all of us boys and my sister, we had everything we needed. Sure, I enjoyed our new house, but as I grew, I missed the Burrow and all of its familiar nooks and crannies. My Mum and Dad poured their new resources into us, their children, trying to give us everything they themselves never had. Now, they wouldn't hesitate to buy us new wands or brooms when we asked. It was new but of course, being children, we all embraced it. We didn't really think much of it, it just became what we knew.

Although the new house was larger than the burrow, we had much less space for all of our rambunctiousness. We no longer had the woods for games of hide and seek or the large front yard for games of quidditch. And now all of a sudden we had neighbors, many of them. These were fellow pure blood families who Mum and Dad came to know, but few had kids our age to play with. There was one boy who Mum made me play with but he was dreadful, playing nothing but videogames and making it clear that he was forced to play, just as I was. There were the boy and girl who were across the way who were fun and growing up to be excellent wizards. We played occasionally. Their Dad was a former member of the Order and one of the best potions masters of his time. I would later read his textbook for potions class and was dumbfounded by some his methods. A true genius.

We were surrounded by wealth and emptiness all at the same time. The neighborhood though was just drab to be honest. Many older, lonely wizards, who would threaten us when we played too loudly near their property. Once, Charlie and I were playing quidditch and hitting the bludger back and forth, and the old witch that lived next door yelled "Evanesco" and our bludgers vanished suddenly. Who would do that to a bunch of kids befuddles me still. Later, between my third and fourth year, my parents decided to show their recognition of our superior playing techniques by building us a replication of the burrow in our backyard, but as should have been expected, that same witch told the Improper use of Magic office that our parents had broken some arcane rule. Dad tried to use his sway at the Ministry but apparently was rebuffed, as this neighbor of ours was some retired Ministry bigwig herself. Us boys did not let this deter us of course, we kept our imagination and have a great sense of play amongst ourselves that we try to maintain to this day. It is something truly unique about our family that I will always admired, certainly fostered by our parents, they did their best always, and I wished they would have worried less about us. They set us up to do nothing but succeed but nevertheless they worried, and should have spent more time on themselves. They deserved it. I will forever be indebted to them for all of their sacrifice, it seems that making us happy is really what made them happy.

It my third year of Hogwarts I started to get ahold of the culture of the school and more importantly, myself. I had stopped pursuing quidditch and had left behind a lot of the friends I had made from sports, and started to try and find friends that shared my true interests, which was academics at this point. I took Muggle Studies, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Arithmancy, and Study of Ancient Runes. I poured myself into my schoolwork and convinced Professor McGonagall to let me use a timeturner in order to make all my classes in time. My sense of pride for my family and school house grew. I wanted to make them proud more so than when I was focusing on sports. When pursuing sports I was driven by a desire to make my teammates proud, but that never came. Now I had people that had my best interest at heart. By now, Charlie and percy had joined me at Gryffindor and I felt a sense of pride to show them that I had forged a path. Although, we did not connect much at school. We were such a close family, and Mum and Dad were not the type to invite over friends all the time. And so all of us weasley children developed a sense of personas. We had our family persona, which was closely guarded as it was so youthful, loyal, and fun with a hint of honesty. We guarded this because it was so important to us. Mum and Dad never showed us how to share this side, as we had a special household to be kept pure at all costs. So at school Charlie and I mostly kept to ourselves. Our paths would cross occasionally but we never really opened up until we got back home.

My final few years at Hogwarts were rather uneventful. I did well in school, becoming first prefect then head boy. Yes I worked hard for those titles, but it was never the goal. I had only started to do well in school because Hogwarts allowed me to explore subjects and find out what I was passionate about. I actually did quite poorly in the subjects I didn't quite care for, but my good marks in my other courses evened it out. I also began to indulge quite a bit in butterbear, hanging at the Hog's Head Inn, and smoking blue tobacco. Mum and Dad did not like this at all, but I thought that working hard at school excused me from any such punishment. It was just a good way to pass the time in the more boring parts of school, which I found myself in quite a bit. I also seemed to find quite a few of my friends through these nefarious endeavours. I developed quite a salty crew around me. In them I again learned the hard way about one of my soft spots, in that I tend to see the best in people, who might not always deserve my respect. Hard to say where that comes from. Certainly after having a stammer for your childhood and watching your peers faces drop as you tried to speak, acceptance and survival become an entangled web within decision making. These friends would prove to only make things harder for me to progress, but so be it, we had some fleeting yet enjoyable times together. Nevertheless, my last year I studied hard for the OWLs and earned quite a few. My parents enjoyed hearing this news, but for me it hardly mattered. I only studied hard because I was able to look at it as a competition. One that I must do well in. The combination of my parents and Professor McGonagall was collectively adept at making me think such after all. Finally though, I was able to leave the warm embrace of Hogwarts and escape towards the unknown, where the real adventure lie. It was not that I didn't like school as I have explained, I just saw it as a holding period almost. Some of my peers saw these challenges as a comfort zone, but I always could not wait to enter the real world. I felt like I had been preparing for years.

First up, I had to find a job. Instead of waiting for the ministry to call with their entry level position, I decided to go straight to diagon alley. I stayed above the leaky cauldron in a laughably small room big enough only for the bed I slept on. There was a shared bathroom down the hall. Once, late at night a wizard that was staying down the hall had a few too many butterbeers and thought the toilet was a port key. He almost drowned in those few inches of water but luckily for him a few us staying on the floor heard his screams. I decided to do the job hunt my way. I went door to door and asked the businesses that interested me if they would take on an apprentice. The only one to even listen to me was surprising a goblin at Gringots. Apparently they don't get many non-goblin job applicants. I accepted a offer immediately to do all the menial labor they didn't want to do or couldn't do. I liked working with the goblins, which many of my friends and family couldn't understand. You always knew where you stood with the goblins. Sure, they were gruff and seemed to constantly be in a bad mood, but I came to understand it as them in just a normal mood. Most importantly, I found the work interesting. The world of Gringots involves extremely advanced magic. A muggle bank simply has to protect against simple muggle devices and tricksters, Gringots has to defend against any combination of spells and complex magical deception. Of course, as muggles can use the best of their technology so can we. I learned about how to cast spells around very specific areas (you use a layering technique with multiple wizards casting the same spells simultaneously, and make sure to keep it up to date). I learned how Gringots makes sure that non-deceptive charms can be used but any sort of summoning charm is made impossible (make every vault have an invisible intake and outtake procedure wherein each item is layered with contrasting spells that act against any spell used onto it). These are hardly secrets, any wizard with some skill could do something similar, but will they? No. Gringots is the best in the business, which is what made it great to work there. I learned that was separates great from world-class is in the details. After I put in a few months of hard labor I was slowly given tasks of greater importance. Eventually I worked my way up to code-breaker. Although this job sounds cool, it really is mostly just long bouts of problem solving, and can be quite boring most of the time. But I loved it. I looked at these problems as a puzzle with pieces spread out around the world and I had to go find those pieces and then put them together in an interesting way. As an added bonus I was able to travel quite a bit, including meeting up with my family in Egypt once. Dad had spent months planning some big trip with the whole family. You could see he was happy to be traveling with all his kids. It was certainly his comfort zone.

That summer after my first year at Gringots, Dad planned another excursion for all of his kids. It was to the quidditch world cup. I was bloody excited no doubt! Dad, Charlie, and I had always bonded over sports even though they were never a passion of Dad's. We always enjoyed talking quidditch, especially the hometown team, the Chudley Cannons. Despite the fact that they were absolutely dreadful, we always thought this would be the time Gudgeon caught the snitch. No matter, only the best from each country played in the world cup and so none of our favorite players were present, but we were ready to cheer on England. I returned home first, and it was there that I met Ron's famous little friend, Harry Potter. I knew this ahead of time because when Mum wasn't busy getting on me for something I was wearing or the necklace I chose to wear that day, she would be preparing for Harry's return and enlisting our help. She really did care for that boy. Harry was coming with us as he had no family of his own. He and Ron seemed to get on good, and Harry clearly liked being at the Burrow so I enjoyed having him around. He was quiet and humble, but certainly had a presence about him. I don't know if it was the legend that preceded him or his character but people gravitated to him. I liked how he seemed not to let all that go to his head. He stuck to his close friends, including Ron.

We left for the tournament with the whole family in tow. We traveled by floo powder which was tough on some of the younger members of our squadron, but eventually we all got to our campsite successfully. Again Dad worked very hard on setting up a great setup for all of us. There was ample room for all of us and he had planned out every inch of our time there. We arrived a few days before the final match. So we spent a few days watching a few of the preliminary matches and getting familiar with the sites and sounds. There was great food too which we enjoyed. The campgrounds itself was actually muggle owned, and so there was a great deal of effort put into making sure that magic was protected from muggle eyes. I witnessed several memory erasures, and spent probably too much of my time there trying to find and analyze what the obliviators from the ministry came up with to hide the event from the muggles. Eventually it was time for the final match, Bulgaria vs Ireland. It was a gem of a match, and quite the spectacle to see. The Irish came down with the victory. Afterwards, after much revelry we headed back to our campsite as a family. Suddenly we heard screams coming from behind us, then above us, the dark mark roared into the midnight sky. My Dad and I immediately got everyone into the family tent and went to try to settle things down. Ron and his friends tried to help as well, even though they should have stayed put. Dad and myself found his friends at the ministry and we went to find the death eaters responsible. There was terror when we found it. The bastards were torturing muggles and wizards alike! We had to one by one fight away the death eaters from the carnage and chaos they were trying so hard to create. We had enough on our side to eventually overwhelm them, and force them to apparate back to the hole that they came from, but not before the damage was done. There was a moment where I saw Beletrix Lastrange trying to torture a poor muggle, and so I disarmed her from the side. I walked up to her wand up, and she reared toward me with a menacing look in her eye. I deflected her next spell but I wasn't fast enough. It hit my arm and left a deep gash. She seemed happy with herself, and laughed as she went to find another victim. All in all the death eaters didn't really fight that hard, it seems a statement of fear is all they were really after. Dad and myself fought alongside each other and it was an important moment for us. I felt strong next to my Dad and I felt his respect for me as a wizard grow that day.

After the terror that became of the world cup, we all had to come home. More tired and stressed than when we left on this vacation. I went back to my small apartment at Diagon Alley. Though, what had transpired at the World Cup had me thinking about life and my career, and lord knows I couldn't stay at Gringots forever. The goblins are a sorry bunch. As I've said, I liked 'em but after awhile there is only so much you can learn in banking. The goblins really like the finite nature of the business but for me I see that as a limitation career-wise.

I needed time to think about my next move. I still had my flat on diagon alley, and fred and george had recently come to diagon alley to open their joke shop. I had fun helping them set up their shop, but they were far more competent business owners than they let on. I decided to go on a trip with Mum to see the Triwizard tournament at Hogwarts. There, I watched Harry compete, who in a strange turn of events had gotten picked to compete by the Goblet of Fire as a fourth competitor. Who knows what was behind this, but I suspected Dark Magic. Dumbledore of course had it under control and Harry did well as always. Ron was right beside him and it was great to see him among his friends. Right before the third trial, I went to see Harry with Ron and Mum to wish him good luck. It was there that I saw fluer for the first time. She was absolutely gorgeous. She was very well dressed and had an air of confidence about her. The friends she had around her were clearly in awe of her but it didn't seem like she let that get to her head. She had long hair, big brown eyes, and a youthful glow to her. I was immensely attracted to her but she was a superstar. I figured she had guys lining up to take her out on a date, and she was going to take her pick any time now. I was out of her league no doubt. And so, I just introduced myself politely and did not pursue her any farther. The tournament itself ended grimly with a tragic turn of events. It is a story for another time, but I made sure Ron and Harry were taken care of, consulted with Dumbledore to make sure he didn't need any further help, and proceeded to go home with Mum.

When I started thinking about my career in full and reflect on my family legacy, I realized I wanted to take a larger role at the Order of the Phoenix. I decided to do what I needed to do in order to help the Order most effectively. So I went back to Gringots and convinced them to give me a simple desk job so I could keep my flat down the way and be near the Order headquarters at 12 Grimmauld Place. This decision to be passionate about honor and protection of family values would prove to be the wisest decision I ever made. A few days after accepting the job Fluer walked through the door, immediately lighting up the room. I probably looked like a bemused doofus as I welcomed her. I acted as if I was aware she was coming the entire time, but in reality I was completely unaware that she was coming in for a part time job at the bank. She explained that her goal was to improve her English. I was happy. She remembered me and after she settled into her work we began to get to know one another and flirt a little if you can call it that. Flirting is not exactly my strong suit. I wouldn't even say I know if it's happening, all I knew for sure was that I wanted to take her on a date. So that's what I did. After about three weeks of polite conversations in the hallway, while goblins barged past immune to our courtship, and glances ay each other, which really was just her catching me staring at her, I built up the courage to ask her out for a drink.

It was a date, I wanted to make clear, so that she knew my romantic intentions. She was too beautiful for me not to take her seriously. And so, I picked her up one day after she got out of work on my off day. I had thought of taking her to a grand muggle pub to show her how cultured I was, but she quickly dismissed that notice and said she was hungry and wanted to go to Rosa Lee Teabag. We shared tea and pumpkin pasties as we shared stories and got to know one another. It was simple and I loved it. She was youthful and wary. She was careful to show she cared but I could tell she was good natured. We carried on the fun conversation for the rest of that date and as we left she had to get on a bus to her flat on the nice side of town, meanwhile I was just going down the street. We shared an awkward goodbye, and promised to do it again. I don't know if either of us knew if the other felt the same as we did in that moment, but we both learned how true our mutual feelings were over the next few weeks. When we would see each other at Gringots, we would exchange awkward, tension filled conversation. It was clear that we both valued this relationship and were excited to go on the next date. That continued, it did not stop. In fact those feelings only got stronger over the next few months as our fun romantic weekends continued.

Something told me to keep pursuing her and she embraced my love like no one else ever could. Our relationship progressed effortlessly as if we had both been waiting for this. She was unapologetically herself, which I loved. It was the relationship I had always wished for. In her arms I felt at home, comforted. She gave the support to be confident, and become my best self. I stopped eating the corned beef sandwiches Mum liked making for me and starting drinking pumpkin juice more often. I played quidditch recreationally with Mudungus Fletcher and Sturgis Podmore from the Order, among others. I stopped smoking blue tobacco altogether and slept better. I was growing up, becoming a better person, something I always knew I would do, but never knew how.

Fluer was absolutely stunning, and I always expected she would suddenly decide I was no longer up to par. She was that kind of blend of beauty and kindness, makes you question everything. She was always happy to oblige my concerns however, and I grew truly comfortable with her. We became inseparable, best friends that never got tired of each other. We fought, don't get me wrong, and when we did it could certainly get ugly. But I grew up with brothers, this was arguably my comfort zone. I wouldn't have it any other way. Months after our first date, we shared "I love yous" and I took her to meet my parents. It was a pleasant first encounter, but certainly worlds colliding for both of us. A few months after this we decided to move in together to my small flat in diagon alley. Mum and Dad thought it too soon, but I didn't care. It was cramped and dirty at times but we made the most of it and had so much fun together in that apartment. There was certainly some tension between Fluer, Ginny, and Mum. Mum and Ginny seemed to look at Fleur skeptically as an authentic member of the family. They wondered if Fluer really loved me for me.

After the battle for Astronomy tower, I was scarred from fighting with the bastard warewolf himself, Fenir Grayback, He had overwhelmed me and scratched me across my face before I was able to use a defensive spell against him. He got me good and it seemed many worried that I would turn into a full-blown werewolf, but it's funny, all that really changed is I occasionally craved rare steaks. Not the worse side effect ever. Plus it worked with my paleo diet. Fluer never worried about this though, and Mum and Ginny noticed. They saw what I had always saw: Fluer loved me for me. She was the rare authentic beauty. To this day, my love for her only grows. With her embrace all is whole in the world, I am comfortable, I am loved, I am complete.


End file.
